


Lorcan makes a deadly decision, Elide doesn't like it

by sarah_bae_maas



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-07 16:10:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16857160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarah_bae_maas/pseuds/sarah_bae_maas
Summary: posted June 21, 2018





	Lorcan makes a deadly decision, Elide doesn't like it

Lorcan hated dreaming.

Every night, as his weary eyes closed after his patrol, he would dream of the image he fell asleep to.

Elide. Beautiful, lovely Elide. His light in the shadows. The life to his abundance of death.

A life that was not his. And rightfully so.

They didn’t dare sleep around a fire, and so Elide had taken to sleeping next to Gavriel for warmth. The Lion, ever the gentleman, never touched for more than heat, to help her small human body when she shook from the cold winds and biting rain. But the image Lorcan fell asleep to and the one he dreamt were two very different things.

His dreams were vivid, so much so that while in them there was no way to discern what was truly reality. In his dreams, he watched Gavriel wrap his arms around Elide. He watched her turn, the way she once had for him, and lean up to brush her lips against his. He watched as her delicate hands explored his chest, his hair, and watched and her hands pushed him back so that he was lying flat. She would then swing her leg over his waist, straddling him while kissing him scandalously. He focused on their tongues, and the sensual way they would dance with each other. Only the sight of her top coming off, of Gavriel’s following, of their discarded clothes littering the field and her riding him, made him look away from their mouths.

The way Elide had once moaned Lorcan’s name was now the way she said Gavriel’s and it was horrifying.

Lorcan would wake in a sweat - not from arousal, but from fear.

Fear that he would never redeem himself.

Fear that he would never get anything from her but the cold glares she sent his way every time he was in the vicinity.

Just as Elide had said, Lorcan had lived a miserable existence. His life was nothing but death, fucking and pining for Maeve.

Elide. Oh, Elide.

He sighed loudly through his nose and turned away from the sight of Elide sitting next to Gavriel, preparing for the night. Whitethorn was hunting for tomorrow’s breakfast, and the young wolf was on watch. He rubbed his hands over his eyes as he lay and dreaded what image his subconscious would give to him tonight. Maybe the usual, Elide moaning atop Gavriel, her hips moving in time to his labored breaths, or maybe it would be more creative. Maybe tonight it would Elide atop Maeve, crying while the demon queen forced her with a blood oath.

When Lorcan had those dreams, he often had to excuse himself. The full-blooded fae may have been able to smell and hear him vomiting, but they weren’t privy as to why he was hauling his guts up every few days.

“Lorcan,” Prince, no, _King_ Rowan snapped. “Take Fenrys’ duty. I want him rested for tomorrow’s journey.”

If not trained, Lorcan may have cringed or snapped at the lesser male for his insolence, but as much as Lorcan detested it, he was no longer commander of this group.

He was no longer anything at all, really.

So Lorcan didn’t complain when he stood and brushed himself off, baring his teeth at the grinning Fenrys as the young male took his bed roll, and dragged it so that was on Elide’s other side.

“I’ve been wanting to join in on this sleepover for weeks. Do we gossip? Is there tea? I’ve no marshmallows but Papa Rowan probably wouldn’t let us have sugar past bed time anyway.”

This time it was Rowan who snarled, but Fenrys’ words had the desired effect.

Elide laughed her twinkly laugh, and settled in against Gavriel, the tension leaving her shoulders at his joke. Lorcan couldn’t bear to watch her anymore, and now that he was away from her, he welcomed the opportunity.

He approached Whitethorn, his lips upturned and his brows knitted together.

“You want the child to have a nap?”

“Actually, I need to speak to you privately. Come.”

Lorcan detested the order but followed the silver haired fae anyway. As he stepped, he felt a tap on his shoulder, not guiding him along, but pushing him away, urging him to return to the human woman. Lorcan shook it off - it was not the first time he had gotten such an order.

But it was the first time his stomach clenched as he followed Rowan.

Perhaps the male deemed him too much a liability. Perhaps it was time for Lorcan to be put down.

Lorcan was not scared of the thought.

“Lorcan.” Rowan’s voice was grave.

“What.”

“We have Fenrys, and we have the layout of the chambers. We need to get in there, quietly, if we’re to save Aelin.”

“You act as if I don’t know that. But unless you’ve thought of a plan since the two days we’ve had this information, then I don’t know why you’re telling me this.”

Rowan’s eyes were blank from centuries of training, but he could not hide the slump in his shoulders, nor the bags under his eyes.

“I have a plan. But it’s dangerous.”

“Everything we do is dangerous.” Lorcan had to refrain from rolling his eyes.

“What we do is a constant threat to our lives. What I’m going to propose means guaranteed death for at least one of us.”

Lorcan knew Elide could not hear them. But Gavriel and Fenrys bloody could, and neither reacted at the news. It seemed Lorcan was the last to hear this.

“And you’re suggesting I take the blow.”

“You have nothing to live for.”

Lorcan opened his mouth to refute the statement but no, Rowan was correct. Fenrys was so young and had scarcely lived before being put under Maeve’s thumb. Gavriel had a son, so much like the Lion, who he doesn’t know, but desperately wanted to. And Rowan had his fire queen.

Lorcan thought of the girl now sleeping in the arms of his former soldier, and knew that she would be happier without him.

Lorcan looked Rowan in the eye, centuries of history passing between them with the look.

Rowan had been tortured by Maeve the most, and the little spark that Elide had lit in his heart told him that Rowan deserved his happy ending.

And that Lorcan, whether they win this war or not, wouldn’t. He would still be the merciless brute with no friends or family, and whose company was forced on others to their disdain.

Lorcan nodded, he thought of what Perranth would have been like, and something in Rowan settled at the gesture.

_____

Elide knew there was something the fae males weren’t telling her. They were all solemn, quiet, but retrieving Fenrys had been a valuable victory for them. Even the Wolf himself could barely meet her eyes, and every time she felt Lorcan gazing at her he turned away before she could stare back. It wasn’t until three days later that Rowan pulled out a map and makeshift figurines that Elide realized they had a plan to save her Queen.

“Elide, you will be waiting here with the carriage. Fenrys will meet you with Aelin, and Gavriel and I will be a week behind you. We’ll meet you at this port, where we will have a boat that we’ll row to meet a ship that’s four kilometres from the coast.”

“How will you get her?”

Rowan swallowed. “The plan is complicated. Best you memorize the routes you’ll need for your journey with Fenrys and Aelin.”

“Why not you?”

“They will hunt me first, thinking I wouldn’t dare separate from my wife. I’ll lead them away while you get her to safety.”

“You have the most important task, Elide, better it be not to confuse you with ours,” Gavriel said.

“But what if something goes wrong? I can’t improvise if I don’t know what I’m working with.” It crossed her mind that they were treating her as though she was dumb. And maybe she would have felt stupid or inadequate next to their centuries of experience, had it not been for their irregular behaviour. Up until now they had shared everything with her. Elide didn’t think they thought it too confusing at all, Elide knew they were just hiding something from her.

“What is it?” she asked.

They stayed silent.

“What is so ghastly about your plan that you can’t tell me the truth?”

She thought about the measly details they had given her.

Her with the carriage. Fenrys and Aelin would meet her. Gavriel and Rowan would come a week later.

“Where will you be?” She turned toward Lorcan.

The males stiffened.

“I will be staying in Doranelle,” he said vaguely.

“To do what? Let those nobles squabble amongst their selves on who the new ruler will be once that bitch is dead. They don’t need you to guide them. You should be helping Aelin escape.” Her voice was laced with contempt. “It was you who caused this mess after all.”

Her anger at him had not faded. The first time she saw him during the day, her first thought was always _how dare you betray her like that._ Her last thought was _how dare you put me ahead of her, you stupid, horrible, sweet male. How dare you make me feel this way._

She enjoyed seeing him flinch. He knew how much she needed Aelin, he should have known she rather die in a starfire than have her captured by either Erawan or Maeve.

It was not Lorcan who responded to her, rather her King, and as she listened to him the ball of anger in her stomach unfurled, and re-wrapped itself as a tight nerve, making her feel sick. Her hands started to shake, and she became pointedly aware of the magical brace that was still around her leg even after all this time, one she never thanked him for, and one that she would never feel again.

It was not the ease of walking without pain that she would miss. It was the knowing someone was always with her, always caring for her no matter how bitter she was, that she would miss.

Because to save Aelin, Lorcan would die.

If the idea had been suggested to Elide, she might have welcomed it, but being told like this, with no choice in the matter, made the voice in her head go _look look look at what you are missing_.

Rowan had laid out exact plans between them. Elide went over every detail presented to her, but she couldn’t get past the section where Lorcan’s fate was shown without becoming hazy. She couldn’t read the words, but the pictures were enough. The three males, obviously more than familiar with the plan, let her be in silence. The only sound she could hear was her feet crushing the leaves and sticks below her and she minutely swayed from shock. They would definitely hear her now thundering heart and breath that hitched on certain diagrams or areas on the map.

After pouring over them again and again Elide turned and stalked away.

____

Lorcan didn’t plan on following her. But Hellas may as well have picked him up by the ankle and ploncked him in front of her his avoidance was so bad.

Fenrys, Gavriel and Rowan were well away from ear shot. Elide just kept walking, and he followed her along like the lap dog he was, bracing her ankle every step of the way.

She didn’t stop until she was completely out of breath and standing before a white cliff face. The trees had thinned and any fae could see them if they looked up, but Lorcan knew if he tried to order her back all he would get was a mouthful.

“They can’t force you to do that,” she snapped.

“I volunteered.”

“Explain yourself.”

“It’s the only way.”

She fisted her hands at her side, turning to him with a snarl on her face. “Is this some sick ploy to make me forgive you? Do you think killing yourself will somehow redeem you in my eyes? Because it will _not_. That is a disgusting way to think.”

He shook his head. “No – no. Elide, I would never try to manipulate you into something by using my life, or someone else’s, as leverage. I am many things, but _gods_ I’m not that.”

“Then what the fuck, Lorcan? You need to tell me more because I can’t possibly understand how you were ready to be executed, and how you weren’t even going to tell me.”

“I didn’t tell you because it didn’t matter.”

Elide’s actions were confusing him. He knew she would have one, but anger wasn’t it. He was expecting her to be relieved. Now he would no longer be there to interfere, nor would she have to worry about keeping her word about him coming to Perranth – a place he knew she didn’t want him anywhere near anymore.

Even if for a moment he thought maybe he could find a home there – a home with her. Until he royally fucked everything up in an attempt to save the woman he loved.

She threw her hands up. “Not matter? How could the end of your life not matter?”

“You’ve said it yourself. I have no family, I have no friends, no one who cares about my existence. In fact, you were quite adamant about that, if I remember correctly, especially when you said it was my own fault.”

“I said that before everything happened-”

“I’m not disagreeing with you, Elide. I think you’re correct. I did then, I do now. If one of us has to die, it must be me. I have the least to live for.” He repeated the words Rowan said to him.

Her nose flared at his words, and she stomped over to him just so she could push back his chest. He didn’t move, her mortal strength against his immortal one like a bird beating at a mountain with its wings.

He caught her wrists in his hands held them between them.

“I am older than some cities, deadlier than nearly all other living fae. I am tired, Elide, and the Darkness would not be unwelcome.”

“Gods you’re a bastard, you’ve always been such a bastard,” she whimpered before she did the last thing Lorcan was expecting.

She stepped into him and stood up on the tips of her toes, barely reaching as she pecked his lips. Her bow lips barely grazed his, and he was so shocked at the kiss that she wrenched her hands free, only to tangle them in his hair and bring him down to meet her.

He could have pulled away, maybe should have, but Hellas be damned Lorcan missed the taste of her mouth. He curved over her, leaning her chin up with his fingers and angling them so he was wrapped around her as she kissed him feverishly.

Her tongue brushed against his, and it had him moaning into her and pulling her closer. The way she pressed into him was sinful, but gods, that’s not what he wanted. He wanted to be gentle, he wanted to take his time, and as Elide’s hurried hands shakily undid the top two buttons of his shirt he found himself pulling away.

“What are you doing?” she breathed, her hands still latched onto him.

“This is a bad idea.”

“No,” she shook her head, “It’s not.”

He walked away from her so quickly she didn’t have a chance to follow – not so far that he was gone, but so the intoxicating scent of her hair no longer filled his head and clouded his thoughts.

“You never would have done this if not for the… situation we’re in.”

She scoffed. “You have no right to tell me how I feel.”

He bit his lip. “Of course I want this, Elide. I want you, more than I’ve ever wanted anything. When I did what I did, I knew it would likely cost me you and my life. I made my bed, and now I am lying in it. But you,” he sighed deeply, “there is much better out there for you than a dishonorable bastard. And I have no doubt this was spurned wholly because I am to die.”

Her face was sad as she looked over him. “I can’t change your mind, can I?”

“No.”

____

The sun had barely risen when Elide woke all the males up early – except for Rowan, who had been on watch. In his hawk form, he monitored everything around them, including her as she poured over the diagrams of their plan again. It was written in a code of pictures she could easily understand, since the written word was useless to her, and she’d made Rowan repeat it enough that it was singed in her brain.

“Get up. Now.” She used a voice fit for a commander, and they all followed suit. They fell into line, weary curiosity on their faces.

“Lady Elide, what is the matter?” Gavriel queried.

She looked them all in the eyes, and said clearly, “You cannot send Lorcan to his execution.”

“Elide,” Lorcan groaned, pinching his nose with his fingers.

“Shush. Queen Aelin Ashryver Galathynius put Lorcan and I under her protection. It was a direct order.” She felt their shift, they stood taller, and they looked thoughtful but confused as they considered her words. “Our queen waned him alive, and she never revoked her words. You can’t kill him any more than you could me. It would violate her command.”

The silence hung over them like a smothering blanket and Elide could feel Annieth crackling in satisfaction. She had told Elide to look again, so she had. And Elide had found a fatal flaw.

Rowan cursed. He turned toward a tree and slammed his fist into it. His face scrunched and Elide was shocked to see silver lining his eyes.

“We were so close,” he seethed.

Looking at the face of a desperate man on the brink of a meltdown made Elide flinch, and she wondered if Rowan would ever forgive her for taking away what he perceived to be the only chance to save his mate.

“You’re still close, Rowan,” she assured him. “Your plan, albeit good, would’ve ultimately failed. Let me show you.” She set up the map of Doranelle they had been using, one Lorcan had drawn, and pulled their figurines from their pouch, laying them out.

She went through their plan, highlighting the faults only someone truly objective from Doranelle could have seen. Sure, Rowan’s plan may have worked, but she doubted that it would have succeeded. But _hers,_ her plan with their input was safer, and had a better chance of setting their queen free.

Gavriel nodded along with her words, smiling at the new plan. “This is good, this is very good. Excellent work, Lady Elide.”

She smiled tightly. Rowan didn’t look at her as he joined Gavriel at his side and the two fae, with Fenrys occasionally chiming in, crafted her plan to perfection.

____

Rowan had told her thank you, and that was it.

Lorcan wanted to rip his throat out because of it – she would be the fire queen’s salvation, and Rowan wasn’t giving Elide nearly as much respect as she deserved. But Lorcan wasn’t much to talk. He hadn’t spoken to her either since their kiss.

But his dreams last night weren’t as heavy. There were no sexual acts, just him and Elide in a field, a warm and welcome light and darkness swirling around them. She wore that ridiculous oracle’s dress from the carnival, and he wore the dirty clothes he had been wearing when he’d first met her. They’d held hands, she she’d smiled, and all was good for those few hours of sleep.

Rowan was on patrol tonight, so Gavriel and Fenrys set up their beds with a space for Elide to be between them. Lorcan turned away. His dreams may be better, but gods above he didn’t need Fenrys joining in on his recurring dreams about the Lion and Elide if they came back.

He heard her before he felt her. She’d walked right past Fenrys and Gavriel, only to kneel at his back. She placed her hand tentatively on his shoulder but didn’t make him turn.

“Lorcan,” she whispered.

He grunted faintly in return.

She swallowed hard and her hands gripped him ever so slightly. “You’re no longer to die, so you can no longer use the excuse that the reason I want to be near you right now is because I’m afraid of your impending death.” Her voice, even if it was a quiet as she could make it, was still easily heard by him.

“I get cold at night,” she continued. “May I share my bedroll with you?”

“Why?” he hushed in return.

“Because yesterday I was faced with the knowledge that you wouldn’t always be with me, and it scared me. I’m not ready to forgive you yet Lorcan, but I’m done being scared.”

He paused.

“Okay.”

She crawled over him and into his arms. He tucked her in close, savoring every moment he could.


End file.
